


Sorcery Unveiled

by enforcer713



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enforcer713/pseuds/enforcer713
Summary: The premise is McGonagall, a passionate teacher who wants Lily and James’s son to succeed in life, she has been waiting for Harry to snap out of his laziness and put some effort into studies, but she is losing hope. And hence, she sees an opportunity to influence Harry into taking his future seriously. Minor to major Weasley Bashing. Not friendly to Snape either. Rated M(eventually)…
Relationships: Harry Potter/Hermione Granger
Comments: 35
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter, JKR does…  
> Canon Divergence story. Harry/Hermione pairing. Starts with the Yule Ball announcement. I know it’s a trope done to hell in fanfics, but I want to have a go at it. Kind of a slow-burn, I may change my mind about that later.

* * *

**_Transfiguration-_ **

“The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above, although you may invite a younger student if you wish…”

Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, Professor McGonagall ignored them, which Harry thought was distinctly unfair, if he had interrupted her class like that, she would have told him off.

“Dress robes will be worn,” Professor McGonagall continued, “…and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then -”

Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class.

“The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to let our hair down,” She said, in a disapproving voice.

Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. Harry could see what was funny this time: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

“But that does NOT mean,” Professor McGonagall went on, “…that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hog warts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way.”

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them on to their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall called above the noise, “Potter…a word, if you please.”

Harry proceeded gloomily to the teacher's desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, “Potter, the champions and their partners...”

“What partners?” Harry interrupted.

Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny.

“Your partner for the Yule Ball, Potter,” She said coldly. “Your dance partners.”

Harry's insides seemed to curl up and shrivel. “Dance partners?” He felt himself going red. “I don't dance,” He said quickly.

“Oh yes, you do,” said Professor McGonagall irritably. “That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball.”

Harry had a sudden mental image of himself in a top hat and tails, accompanied by a girl in the sort of frilly dress Aunt Petunia always wore to Uncle Vernon's work parties.

“Open the Ball?” He squeaked; his heart was now thudding in his throat.

“Yes. As a Champion, you must open the ball with your date and the other champions.”

Harry was now sweating, the idea of being the centre of attention made him uncomfortable as it is, but now he would have to be ‘dancing’ with a ‘girl’ in front of a crowd, a crowd that had hated him from the moment his name came out of the goblet to the moment he almost died against the Horntail, “Professor, please, I don’t dance.”

“You must!” Professor McGonagall said irritably in a final sort of way.

Sweat drops fell off his brow, “But, I _can’t_ dance.” He rephrased in a voice filled with panic.

Now that got the Transfiguration professor thinking. Harry remained oblivious, but a manipulative plan wormed its way into McGonagall’s mind, one that she could see happening under the right conditions. One that would make one of her pups into a great wizard. _Ah, yes, I see now. This shall be the perfect opportunity to remove Potter from Weasley’s influence and guide him into the right path._ She felt a little guilty about thinking one of her pups as a bad influence, and about this manipulation, but she was a realist above all, she knew that her pups weren’t perfect and she knew that this was necessary for Potter’s sake.

“I propose an idea. I will teach you how to dance properly, so that you may not make a fool out of yourself in front of our foreign guests and _besmirch_ the Gryffindor name.” McGonagall felt proud of her plan.

“T-teach m-me dance?” Harry stuttered as he gulped miserably, his trademark Gryffindor courage was nowhere to be found.

“Yes, I will teach you how to dance. Come to the unused Transfiguration classroom 5T beside my office at six tomorrow evening. You’ll have your first lesson.” She said as she inked the words on a piece of parchment and handed it to the boy, she almost smirked when she added, “And bring your date with you.”

“Date?!” Harry now felt like falling into a deep hole without a way out.

“Yes, Mr Potter. Date. Unless you wish to practice with me.” She knew this would work; she knew it in her heart that Harry Potter would not fancy practising with her, it would force him to ask a girl out.

“B-but…that means I must find a date by tomorrow evening,” Harry said more than asked in outrage.

Professor McGonagall’s lips thinned, “Do you expect me to find you a date, Mr Potter? I can certainly arrange that.” It was a threat and he knew it when he heard it.

“No, ma’am.” He said quickly, and then sighed miserably, “I’ll find a date.”

Now, he was miserable, that he will have to practice dancing under the supervision of Professor McGonagall with some girl. And knowing Professor McGonagall, he knew that she would not allow him to back out of the practice now.

Harry walked out of the office, slumped and glum.

* * *

**_Great Hall-_ **

Dinner was a pitiful affair, as everyone was discussing the upcoming Ball, which was announced today. He, however, was becoming more and more fidgety with each passing minute, dreading the inevitable. He had already earned curious eyes from both Ron and Hermione, but neither said anything. Hermione was busy chatting with Ginny, and Ron was wolfing down pie as if it was his last meal.

His gaze moved across the hall until it fell on Cho Chang. His stomach did a flip when he saw her. She was surrounded by her classmates and a gang of friends, and a few Beauxbatons girls.

Finally, he saw Cho finish her dinner and leave the hall with her friends. He finished the pumpkin juice in his goblet and he got up ignoring Ron’s curious glance.

 _‘It’s now or never, Potter! Where’s your Gryffindor courage? Find it! Now or never…!’_ His mind screamed at him.

He rushed out of the hall and caught up with Cho and her giggling group of friends on the grand staircase.

“Cho!” He called out to her. Impressed that he hadn’t stuttered out loud, because he felt his heart beating in his throat.

The group stopped and turned to see him, and immediately one of them said something and everyone giggled in unison. He was now sweating through his clothes. He gulped and plucked up the nerve ascending towards her.

“Hi, Harry,” Cho said and he for a moment lost what he was going to say.

He quickly shook his head and gulped audibly and asked, “Can I…” he glanced around at her friends and continued, “…talk to you for a moment?”

One of them whispered something and everyone giggled, he was sure that he was the shade of a tomato, “Of course, Harry.”

She descended to meet him, and he slowly led her away from earshot, but still within watchable distance from the group, whose eyes were trained on him.

“I…, I was wondering – I was wondering if you would be my date to the Yule Ball?” He asked, feeling proud of himself for saying it out loud without making a fool of himself. His chest felt lighter as if a huge weight had been lifted off of him.

Cho’s pitying glance was enough to bring the butterflies back into his stomach, “Um, I’m sorry Harry. But someone already asked me, and I said ‘yes’.”

“Already?” Harry didn’t know why he asked that, but it had come tumbling out and he felt stupid.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I really am…” Cho said pityingly, and he felt an acute depression hitting him. And he did what he usually did when he was depressed, he smiled at her, a skill he had mastered by practice long ago.

“It’s okay, Cho. He’s a lucky guy.” He smiled with a perfect poker face, if she had noticed his eyes, she would have known that he was lying through his teeth, but she, fortunately, didn’t. Cho beamed at him.

“I’ll see you, Harry.” She said as she waved him goodbye and walked up the stairs to meet with her giggling group of friends.

“I’ll see you, Cho.” He gave a wave and turned to walk away, his smiling dropping and his brows furrowing as he turned around the corner and disappeared out of sight. The moment he was alone, he placed his forehead on the cold wall and he sighed disappointedly, his heart, wrenching in dejection.

* * *

**_Gryffindor Common Room-_ **

Harry was sitting on the couch by the fireplace, idly staring into the flames. It was five past eleven, the common room was practically empty. He had watched Dean, Seamus, Neville and Ron play exploding snaps for hours with a fake smile plastered on his face. Now that he was alone, he felt no need to pretend anymore, so he sat there tired and dejected.

The portrait hole opened and Hermione walked in with a heavy bag slung around her shoulder. She was clearly surprised to seem him still in the common room. She did a turn and walked straight towards him. She dropped her bag beside him, breaking him out of his trance as the cushion dipped, startling him.

“Harry?” Hermione said softly.

“Hey, Hermione.” He said, instantly donning his fake smile.

Hermione being the observant one she was, wasn’t fooled. She took her seat beside him and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Harry smiled and sighed for forgetting that Hermione would see right through him.

“I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” Harry fed her a half-truth to dissuade her, but she wasn’t deterred.

“And what’s occupying your mind?” She probed him.

This time, he smiled genuinely, “Professor McGonagall told me that the champions must open the ball with a dance.”

“Of course, it’s tradition.” She said as if it was common knowledge, to which he faked a smirk.

“I know.” He said softly.

Hermione gave him a tender sigh, “I assume you’re not particularly thrilled about it.”

“I can’t dance.” He said to her.

“It’s tradition, Harry. You just have to learn how to dance.” Hermione said that as if that was the simplest thing ever.

“I know.” Harry groaned tiredly, “McGonagall has offered to teach me how to dance, more like ordered, and I’ve agreed.” He muttered the last part, “Which means that I have to find a date by tomorrow evening, or else I would be practising with Professor McGonagall herself.”

Now that brought a cheeky grin out of Hermione, “Oooh, Mr Potter. Wooing a professor.”

“Don’t! Just don’t…” He said snappishly, but raised his hands in surrender and gave out a weak grin. Hermione stopped the ribbing she was about to give him. And he was already feeling a lot better than he had been just minutes ago.

Hermione thought about it for a moment, “I’m not seeing the problem. You just have to ask someone out on a date. You’re Harry Potter, the champion who battled the Hungarian Horntail. You can literally ask anyone and they will say ‘yes’.”

Harry gave a long-suffering sigh, “I don’t know. I don’t want to go to the Ball, let alone dance with anyone who might see me as the Harry Potter. I’m Harry. Just Harry.”

Hermione frowned a little, “That would be a problem, Harry.”

“I know…” He drawled, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

Hermione calculated for a moment and then said, “You should ask Cho. This is the perfect opportunity, you shan’t miss-”

“I already did.” He said curtly, feelings of jealousy ebbing out of him despite his best efforts.

Hermione snapped her head at him in surprise, but he didn’t say anything, so she gently pressed for an answer, “And?”

“Someone already asked her, it seems.” He said dejectedly.

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione wrapped around him in her signature bone-crushing hug, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Harry mumbled to her, “I’m fine.”

Hermione separated and gave him a nod, knowing that pressing him to share with her would only make him close his heart, “If it’s any consolation, I think Lavender, Parvati and Ginny would love to go to the Ball with you. If you asked, they would say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.”

The image of Parvati and Lavender giggling at him, came to his mind. He unconsciously shuddered, it reminded him of the girls that always surrounded Cho, making it difficult for him to approach her. He frowned automatically, he would hate to go to the Ball with such girls, who only saw him as Harry Potter. And Ginny was no exception, he didn’t know if she had grown out of her crush on him, but he doubted it.

“No, I don’t think I can go with them.” He said softly, as he began staring off into space.

Hermione nodded again, “I understand, Harry.”

Hermione thought for a moment, “Should I ask around to find out if anyone might want to go with you?”

Harry looked at her and then nodded, “That would be great.” He said weakly.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes and then Hermione shifted tiredly, “Harry, it’s late. I’m going to bed, you should too.”

Harry gave a distracted nod as he said, “I will, I just need a little time to think.”

As Hermione stood up, slinging her heavy bag around her shoulder, he watched her walk away. That’s when it struck him. He needed a girl he was comfortable with, someone who wouldn't see him as the Harry Potter or as the boy-who-lived or as the Triwizard champion, and Hermione was all those things. Why couldn't he just ask her? That was the last thought that rattled his mind as she traipsed up the girl’s dormitory.

* * *

“Tempus.” He said as he gave a wave of his wand and saw that the time was twelve forty-three.

Harry paced back and forth in the now empty common room with only the fire in the fireplace his companion.

_‘Why shouldn’t I ask, Hermione?’_

_‘You know, why. She is Hermione. It will be awkward.’_

_‘More awkward than practice dancing with a total stranger?’_

_‘Yes…, maybe.’_

_‘What’s the worst thing that could happen?’_

_‘Ron!’_

Now that made Harry pause, for a moment. They had just patched things up after that fight on Halloween night, he did not wish to go into another row with Ron. And that is exactly what would happen if he asked Hermione to practice dancing with him and as his date to the Ball.

_‘She is Hermione. Do you really see her as a date?’_

_‘Who says it has to be a date? It could just be two friends who have known each other for years going to a Ball together.’_

_‘What if she says ‘no’? What if someone has asked her already and she has said ‘yes’?’_

_‘You don’t know that. She could say ‘yes’. Besides who would ask her, she’s Hermione.’_

_‘Now you know that’s not true. She’s Hermione. Anybody would be lucky to go with her.’_

_‘I suppose that’s true. But she still could say ‘yes’.’_

_‘What if she says, ‘no’? Our friendship will be ruined. It will be so awkward.’_

_‘Our friendship will be fine, Ron was a git until a few days ago, and now we’re back to normal. Things will be awkward for a while before it goes back to normal. Besides, will it be more awkward than going to the Ball, alone?’_

_‘You can literally ask anyone else in the school and they would say ‘yes’.’_

_‘But I’ll never enjoy the Ball if I went with a complete stranger.’_

_‘Do you want to enjoy it?’_

_‘No! But since I have no other choice but to attend, why should I willingly be miserable?’_

_‘You’re forgetting something. You’ll have to practice dancing with Hermione under McGonagall’s supervision until the Ball. It’s not just the affair of enduring it one night, you’ll have to practice for hours until the Ball.’_

_‘Can you imagine dancing with Lavender or Parvati under the watchful eye of Professor McGonagall? With Hermione, I’ll at least be comfortable.’_

His inner voice stopped there. He was stumped. A part of him wanted to ask Hermione, while another part of him wished not to broach the subject again. He had no idea what to do.

_‘What about Ron? What would you say to him? He will not be happy.’_

_‘Let’s ask Hermione first. If she says ‘no’, then I’ll ask her to keep it a secret so that Ron doesn’t find out that I asked her. If she says ‘yes’, then I’ll cross that bridge then…’_

_‘So, you have no plan.’_

_‘Oh, shut up!’_

_‘Like that’s going to happen. I’m you, you idiot.’_

Harry ignored that voice that kept saying that asking Hermione was a mistake, but he was determined now. He was a Gryffindor, he was brave. He had braved approaching Cho and asking her to be his date just hours ago. Compared to that, this is nothing. He was no coward to run away from a challenge.

He quickly cast a ‘Tempus’ charm to see that it was quarter past one. He wanted to wake up before everyone else so that he can ask Hermione early when he had some privacy from others. With that, he quickly ran up his own stairs to his dorm.

* * *

**_Morning-_ **

It was exactly six and she was trudging down the stairs to the common room to get some reading done. She wanted to revise a few things before class began. As she entered, she was surprised to see Harry awake and sitting on the couch.

 _‘Hadn’t he gone to bed yet?’_ She wondered as worry crept its way in.

“Harry? Have you been up all night?” She asked as she rushed to him.

Harry turned to her, his eyes nervous, “Hey, Hermione.”

He looked fresh as if he had showered and he was wearing fresh clothes, and he already had his bag with him. He must have woken up early, she surmised. But why was he up this early, she wondered. It was in her nature to question the things that needed to be questioned and solve the things that needed solving. Was he too worried about the whole date thing?

“Is everything alright?” She asked as she sat next to him.

“Yes, yes…” He said as he tried to relax, but his shoulders were tense, it made her curious.

They sat in silence as she fished out her charms book and started reading when she caught him giving her furtive glances.

“Harry, is everything alright?” She asked now worried.

“I need to ask you something.” He began but paused.

“Okay.” She said patiently.

Harry looked like he was mustering up the courage. “W-will you come to the Yule Ball with me?” Harry asked her, which made her freeze in her spot.

There was silence. Awkward and oppressing silence.

Panic washed over his face, as he started fidgeting, “I-um, I…I’m sorry I asked. Forget it.”

“Yes!”

Harry froze this time, “What?”

Hermione couldn’t believe it. Harry had asked her. He could have literally asked anyone, and he asked her. She felt a slight disappointment that Harry only asked her because Cho was going with someone else. She wasn’t Harry’s first choice, she knew that, but she couldn’t help be excited. She really hadn’t expected anyone to come and ask her to the Ball, she wasn’t fashionable, she had untameable hair, she had bucktooth, she knew that she wasn’t beautiful, but she wanted to go to the Ball. Harry was her best friend, if he hadn’t asked her, she would have asked him, she was already slowly building her courage to ask him or Ron to take her.

“Yes.” She said simply.

Harry looked at her in disbelief, “Y-yes?”

His utter disbelief was cute. Did he actually think that she would say ‘no’ to him? It made her giggle, “Yes.”

A grin touched Harry’s face, as he sat there now relaxing as the tension on his shoulder went away. She smiled warmly as she went to her reading, but she kept reading the same page over and over again because her mind was preoccupied with the thoughts of dancing with Harry.

“Thank you.” She heard him say, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Huh?” She looked at him bewildered.

Harry grinned at her warmly, “Thank you, Hermione. For being so great.”

She observed him, every inch of his face. He was being absolutely genuine; he was so thankful that she had agreed to go with him. Which means that he was dreading that she would say no. She couldn’t believe it. Harry must have thought that she would reject him. It was absurd to think about.

She knew that their friendship would change forever, which she was terrified of, but she had hope that Harry and she would still be friends even if everything went to hell. He was the noblest person she had known, and she believed in her judgement.

It was a simple word. ‘Thank you.’ A few simple words of gratitude, but it did so much to make her beam at him. They didn’t notice the world move around them as the common room became crowded until they went to breakfast.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter, JKR does…  
> Canon Divergence story. Harry/Hermione pairing. Starts with the Yule Ball announcement. I know it’s a trope done to hell in fanfics, but I want to have a go at it. Kind of a slow-burn, I may change my mind about that later

Minerva McGonagall watched in content as Harry Potter stood in front of her desk with Hermione Granger beside him. Both teens were looking nervous and sheepish, no doubt anxious about the prospect of dancing with each other.

She had hoped for something like this and was glad that this had come to pass. Minerva’s calculation was simple, force the boy into a position of asking for a date within a short time, the odds were Potter would ask his best friend Ms Granger. Although, she was prepared in case Potter secured someone else as his date. A stronger relationship between Ms Granger and Mr Potter would do the two so much good. The young witch would find her skills polished further in helping Potter, and in return, Potter would take to her beneficial habits and put more effort into his studies. It was a win-win for Gryffindor.

“Ah, yes, the lessons.” The transfiguration professor said, “Mr Potter. Ms Granger. I see that you’ve both found yourself.” She gave the children a hint of a knowing smile.

Harry and Hermione blushed and gave a nod, “Let’s proceed to our designated class.”

They proceeded towards the class she had arranged for her lessons. All the unused desks and benches were aligned against the walls, leaving the centre enough space for the children to dance.

“All right children. Have either of you danced at a Ball before?” The professor asked curiously. Both shook their heads, to which she gave a nod.

“Have either of you observed a ballroom dance before?” She asked to gauge their knowledge. This time Hermione nodded with a wide smile, remembering the fond memories of her parents learning ballroom dancing, while Harry shook his head since he was never allowed to go to uncle Vernon’s work parties.

“Have either of you danced in any form before?” She asked.

Harry looked blank. Hermione however said hesitantly, “But I’ve taken ballet lessons at primary.”

“Good.” McGonagall nodded at her, “Then you can help me teach Mr Potter how to dance properly.”

“Assume positions,” McGonagall said.

Hermione immediately turned to face him, while he stood there cluelessly facing professor McGonagall. Hermione smiled at Harry’s cluelessness, “Turn towards me, Harry.”

“Oh,” Harry turned to face her with a sheepish grin.

Minerva came closer and said, “Mr Potter, you will lead and Miss Granger would follow.”

“Why should I lead?” Harry asked curiously with a hint of apprehension in his voice.

“A man always leads during a waltz. You must hold the woman and make her enjoy dancing with you. You are to prove your worth.” McGonagall rolled her eyes before explaining briefly to the clueless champion, while Hermione grinned at Harry, amused by his denseness. Harry nodded in understanding, he realised that this was one of the things that he was expected to do, his eyes suddenly taking a gleam of determination the moment he was told to ‘prove his worth’.

“Mr Potter take Miss Granger’s right hand with your left.”

Harry did as he was instructed, he gingerly took Hermione’s right hand in his left, his features one of utter focus, to hide the worry that was under the surface, while Hermione started feeling her heart beginning to thunder inside her.

“Up. Raise your hands up to shoulder height.”

Minerva McGonagall was a demanding teacher, she almost barked at the boy, who shivered in shock but did as he was told. Harry and Hermione both raised their clasped hands up to the level of their shoulders.

“Higher.” Minerva prompted them to ascend, and the duo raised their entwined hands a hair higher than before, glancing at the strict professor.

“Perfect,” McGonagall said earning a small smile from both Harry and Hermione.

“Mr Potter, place your right hand on Ms Granger’s back.” Harry did as he was told, encircling his right hand beneath her left arm, around her midsection and resting his hand just above her hips.

Minerva frowned, “Higher Mister Potter, keep your elbows higher. Place your hands just below the nape of the neck, on Ms Granger’s shoulder blades.” Harry quickly rose his hand and placed it on Hermione’s shoulder blades.

Seeing Harry frown, Minerva asked, “Is there a problem, Potter?”

“I can’t hold like this. My hand keeps slipping, there’s nothing to grab on to.” Harry said meekly, averting his eyes from either of them, meanwhile, Hermione heard what Harry said and began blushing furiously.

Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. The boy was an idiot, she realised, “You’re not to _grab_ on to Ms Granger, Potter. For heaven’s sake, she’s not a Quaffle to grab on to. You’re to _hold_ her, gently. With passion…with respect, with comfort. With _love_.” Both the children were now blushing brightly from head to toe at her comment, sweating profusely.

Harry nodded his head vigorously, his ears burning, while Hermione looked ready to burst into flames like a vampire exposed to sunlight.

“Miss Granger, place your left hand on Mr Potter’s shoulder. Just the fingertips.” Hermione did it perfectly as she was told, “Very good, Ms Granger.” Hermione smiled softly at the praise.

“Don’t slouch.” Minerva corrected sternly, her eyes trained on the fidgeting boy, who immediately straightened.

“Elbows higher.” Hermione quickly corrected and Harry followed her lead.

“Keep your knees loose.” Minerva urged softly at their stiff posture.

Minerva walked around them in a half-circle, inspecting their stance and their postures. She nodded in acceptance; they seem to have gotten the basic stance. They were too tense and they needed confidence, but she knew that it would come along with enough practice and time. They will soon be comforted by each other’s presence and feel at ease, and their confidence would follow behind it.

“Now, shall we practice?”

* * *

Hermione couldn’t believe it. She was dancing with Harry. The small crush that she had grown out of this last summer had bloomed in her heart once again within the span of a single day. She never expected Harry to ask her, after their conversation last night, she was in fact planning on asking some girls in her study group if they would be interested in going to the Ball with Harry. But now that Harry had asked her, she couldn’t push the feelings behind to the back of her mind.

Harry had asked her early this morning and she had been floating on top of a cloud all day. Imagining the picture of her dancing with Harry in front of the whole hall made her blush and giggle every time. She was certain that Harry could hear her heart beating rapidly, she could feel them in her ears. She was worried about what Harry might feel about all this, but now, Harry looked just as worse as her, averting his eyes from her, his cheeks red like a cherry. He looked cute. This was just perfect.

“There are six basic steps to practice. We shall master them first.” Hermione tuned into the professor’s words, instead of focusing on Harry, knowing that she might go catatonic if she did not.

“Step one. Now, Mr Potter, you will step forward with your left foot. And Ms Granger, you will step back with your right foot. The movement must be in tandem with each other.” Minerva explained and then said, “Begin.”

Harry gently took a step forward, while Hermione perfectly stepped back with her right.

“Very good!” Professor McGonagall said to them, and she beamed while Harry let out a nervous grin.

Minerva observed carefully, “Step two. Mr Potter, step to your right with your right foot. Ms Granger, step in tandem with Mr Potter to your left with your left foot.”

Harry stepped to his right with his right foot and Hermione followed his lead by stepping with him to her left.

“Elbows up! Potter, hand on Ms Granger’s shoulder blades!” Minerva admonished sternly. Both had been so focused on their footwork, they forgot their stance and posture, “Remember, you must never sacrifice your stance for your footwork, or vice versa, you must learn to maintain both at the same time. Is that understood?”

Harry nodded his head vigorously as he dragged his hand back up to Hermione’s shoulder blades, making Hermione shiver a little, which he noticed and gulped. “Yes, Professor!” Both said in unison.

“Good. Now continue…” Minerva prompted on, “Potter, now bring your left foot next to your right, Ms Granger, do the same with your right foot.” Harry and Hermione both moved together, bringing their feet close together.

“Potter! Eyes on Ms Granger! Not on your feet!” Harry gulped audibly, but nervously rose his eyes up glanced at Hermione’s face, his gaze locking on Hermione’s chocolate brown eyes.

Meanwhile, _‘Oh no!’_ Hermione was panicking internally because now she will have to brave through staring into Harry’s beautiful emerald orbs. Both stared deeply as the world around them fell away.

Unknown to either of them, Minerva McGonagall was feeling proud of herself for paving way for the next generation of powerful mages to burst out of their cocoons and taking flight dependent on each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

“Now, Mr Potter, step back with your right foot, Ms Granger, step forward with your left in tandem with your partner.”

Harry nervously stepped back with his right, while Hermione stepped forward with her left, both already entranced with each other’s eyes.

“Nicely done.” The transfiguration professor said, but neither teens were listening to the praise, rather preoccupied with their rattled thoughts at the sudden intimacy.

“Potter, step back sideways with your left foot. Ms Granger, step forward sideways with your right foot.” Both teens did as they were told.

The transfiguration professor sighed, “Children, hands up, elbows up. Do not neglect your posture.”

Harry once again dragged his hand back to Hermione’s shoulder blades, once again making her shudder nervously, while she gently squeezed her grip on Harry’s shoulder, making his breath speed up.

“Potter, bring your right foot next to your left. Ms Granger, do the same with your left foot.”

They did and professor McGonagall clapped, breaking them out of their trance.

“Now, these are the six basic steps that you must practice to mastery. Today, we will continue this until the hour comes to an end, tomorrow we will practice further with music. When you master these basic steps with the rhythm of your music, we shall try advanced movements. Let’s not waste time, continue…”

* * *

Harry walked out of the classroom; Hermione was walking with him. In the last hour, everything had changed, he knew. He was trying his best to steady his beating heart. They had followed the six basic steps for an entire hour, with Professor McGonagall sitting there observing them for the rest of the hour. He had thought that with Hermione, he would feel at ease, but it had been so awkward, but still very nice. He didn’t even want to imagine going through this with someone like Lavender or Parvati or…Cho. He knew that he would have keeled over if he had done this with them. He was so very thankful that it was with Hermione and so very thankful that she had agreed to go through this with him in the first place.

Hermione knew him, but it was more than that, she was his best friend. She knew how to calm him, he had derived strength from her eyes whenever he felt his stomach rattling against his chest. But now he felt confused as to what he was feeling for Hermione.

Every time he forgot his hand and it dipped down to her hips and then he had to drag it back up to her shoulder blades, Hermione shuddered, was it because he made her skin crawl or was it something else, he didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t want to know. Not only that, he had stepped on her toes no less than two dozen times in the past hour, he was sure that her toes were bruised.

Harry had to apologize, he knew that he had to, “Hermione, I’m so sorry.” He said, and she froze.

Seeing her reaction confused him, and he thought about how it might have sounded, his eyes widened when he realised that she might think that he thought this had been a mistake. So, he immediately hurried to correct it, “No, no, I mean, I’m so sorry for stepping on your toes.”

He saw her features relax again, she smiled at him, but this one was somehow different, it made his stomach flip inside like it usually did whenever he saw Cho.

“It’s alright Harry. This was our first lesson; we can improve with practice.” Hermione said, blushing furiously.

Harry nodded his head. Practise, that meant he got to do this with Hermione again. And frankly, he was beginning to like the idea. He quickly suppressed that thought, he didn’t want to examine what that meant.

“I’m also sorry for…for, f-for not keeping my hand fixed on your b-back.” He said stuttering, his ears burning red.

Hermione averted her head and clenched her fists together to avoid him from seeing her blush harder. Thankfully, Harry went on as if he didn’t notice.

“I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.” Harry apologised but she didn’t say anything. She bit her lower lip to stop her from smiling herself silly.

Harry gave her a panicked furtive glance, “I-I’ll understand if y-you didn’t want to do this again, with me.” He was fully expecting her to accept it, so he was surprised when he heard her.

“No!” She squeaked loudly. When she realised what she had done, her eyes widened and she began blushing harder again as if that was even possible.

“Stop saying sorry.” She said trying her best to hide her quivering voice.

Harry for a moment looked startled, but then he let out a wide grin that fully reached his eyes. She was already feeling lightheaded as it is, she quickly averted her eyes shyly, and so did he.

They reached the grand staircase, and Hermione turned to him, “Harry, I’m not feeling hungry, I’ll see you later.”

“I’m not keen on dinner either. I just need some rest.” He replied. He really wasn’t hungry, his shoulders were aching, so were his feet. He just wanted to shower and rest.

In silence, they went to their tower. They gave Fat Lady the password and entered the common room to find it empty, as everyone was at dinner. Harry went to the couch by the fireplace and sunk into it, placing his head backwards and relaxing. Hermione however rushed into her dormitory.

* * *

**_Dorm Room-_ **

Harry sat on his bed, his elbows on his knees, his fingers on the bridge of his nose. Dean’s, Neville’s and Seamus’s eyes boring into him as Ron stood there furious. He had seen this coming, he had. He just hadn’t wanted to believe it. After the First Task, he had convinced himself that Ron had learned from his mistake, that he had changed. And yet here they were, again.

Ron had wondered why he and Hermione were absent for dinner. He had seen it as a good opportunity to tell Ron about him taking Hermione to the Ball. He knew that hiding it would only make the matter worse when Ron does find out. Now, he was regretting telling Ron about him and Hermione.

“Ron, you have to believe me. I didn’t plan this. I asked Cho first before I even considered asking Hermione. Cho is going with someone else.”

“S’pose, I reckon, Hermione just said agreed?” Ron asked grinning, but the way he was grinning was forced, strained like a grimace.

Harry didn’t like Ron’s smile or his insinuation, “Yes, she agreed.”

Ron’s face looked pained, “Why wouldn’t she? You’re Harry Potter. You’re the boy-who-lived. You’re the champion of the Triwizard Tournament. Why wouldn’t she want to go with you?”

“Ron!” He snapped, “Hermione isn’t going with me because I’m famous! She is going because she is our friend, and because I asked her! How can you think that about her?”

Ron closed in on him in rage, none in the dorm tried to step in, “I was going to ask her!”

“If you fancied her, you should have told me! How was I supposed to know what you felt for Hermione?! How was I supposed to know? You’ve been fighting like cats and dogs for the past three years.”

“How were you supposed to know?!” Ron asked incredulously as if it was so obvious as if he was the one missing the obvious answer, “Because we’re mates. That’s how! You should have asked me before you asked her!”

Harry looked as if he couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing, he stood up to face Ron, “Are you telling me that I have to ask you for permission before I made any decision that involved myself or Hermione?”

Ron averted his eyes at that, but then turned to face him once again, eyes gleaming furiously, “We’re the trio, mate. We. Not you and Hermione. We. You should have asked me!”

Harry stood there shell-shocked. He didn’t believe it. He didn’t believe that Ron would think this, to think that Hermione would go with him only for his fame, to think that he was to be involved in all of their private and personal decisions. It was just absurd.

Ron wasn’t finished yet, “You’re the Harry Potter. You could have asked anyone and they would have agreed, but no, you had to ask Hermione.”

“Ron, we’ve known each other for three years now. When have I ever been comfortable with my fame? When have I ever been okay with being the centre of attention? That’s why I asked Hermione, she doesn’t see me as the boy-who-lived, or as the Triwizard champion, she sees me as Harry, just Harry.” He tried to explain, he was almost pleading with Ron to listen.

Ron looked conflicted for a moment, before his eyes resolved and snapped back at him, “Oh, get off it.”

There was a brief pause, the dorm room was silent. Neville’s, Dean’s and Seamus’s eyes were trained on them, it was making him uncomfortable. The silence was becoming more and more difficult to bear. He needed a solution, something that might make things easier.

“Ron, what do you want?” Harry sat down again, tired from all this, “Are you expecting me to tell her that I can’t take her so that you can ask her?”

Ron frowned, knowing that it was a cruel thing to ask, but then Ron made up his mind and said sharply, “A good friend would do it.” His words were like ice, sharp and thin, enough to slice into his skin.

Harry was ashamed to think that he had considered it, even if it was for only a moment. And then, he remembered it, her eyes hopeful and joyful, she had wanted to dance with him, just as much he thought he would be comfortable dancing with her.

Ron did not have a good opinion about Hermione, he seemed to think that Hermione was some sort of fangirl who sook his fame, like Parvati or Lavender. All the times Ron and Hermione fought and argued, he was careful to not pick a side, because he didn’t want either of them accusing him of being partial. He wanted them both as his friends, but he was aware that he often sided with Ron, if not verbally, at least in action. But this time, it was different. This time, he didn’t care.

He gave Ron a chance, after the whole slog with the first task and all. Even though Ron hadn’t really apologized, he had forgiven him, because he was glad to have him back as a friend. This time, he didn’t care. No more. Ron was questioning _him_ of being a good friend when it was Ron who was being a git.

His voice was calm and collected and cold, without an ounce of doubt in his tone, “We’re done, Weasley.” He addressed by his last name, making everyone in the room to freeze, “We’re done. I’ve had enough of your jealousy and enough of your doubts. Enough of your _shite_.”

Harry paused to take a deep breathe so that he didn’t stutter or quiver, “You just lost yourself a friend. You find yourself a new one. We’re done.”

Harry wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Ron standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, while Seamus, Dean and Neville all gaped with their jaws on the floor at what had happened.

* * *

_Next morning…_

Hermione was worried. She hadn’t seen Harry anywhere. And she knew how he must be feeling, she needed to talk to him. When she entered the Charms classroom, she saw Harry sitting away from his roommates. Ron was sitting with Neville, Dean and Seamus were sitting together and Harry was sitting alone.

The sight of Harry sitting alone, his eyes focused on the wand he was holding in his hands broke her heart. He hadn’t even eaten breakfast with them either. Lavender had told her what happened in the boys’ dorm last night. Everyone knew what happened now.

Harry had told Ron that he was no longer his friend. She felt awful. All of this was because of her. She went to the desk beside his and took her seat next to Susan, who gave her a sympathetic look when she kept glancing at Harry to make him see her.

Professor Flitwick walked in and the class began shortly. The hour passed tediously. Malfoy kept trying to insult Harry, to goad him into a brawl, but Harry had paid him no mind, much to her relief. Malfoy had then turned his taunts on Ron, about their row, but Harry had said nothing. She was glad that Harry was so detached. She didn’t want the repeat of what happened in the potion’s classroom right after the champions’ selection.

When the class ended, she knew that Harry would try to disappear and she was ready for it. As they were all leaving, she managed to follow Harry to the third-floor corridor and then called him, “Harry, wait!”

She watched him freeze on spot. He turned to see her and then a small smile appeared on his face. His smile said everything she needed to know. She was grateful that Harry wasn’t blaming her, “Hey, Hermione.” He said softly, as she reached him, but then she noticed that his smile did not reach his eyes.

“Harry, are you alright?” She asked him carefully.

“I’m fine.” He said to her, but she knew him, she knew that he would never speak his heart, he was the champion of 'I'm fine'.

“We can go to the kitchen to have lunch. Come with me, please.” Hermione hoped that he would agree, and she smiled when he did. Harry had missed dinner last night and breakfast this morning, he had to eat something.

They reached the kitchen and one of the elves made them sandwiches, that he ate gingerly, and quietly, lost deep in his thoughts.

“Harry, I’m sorry. For what happened. It’s my fault-”

She began, but Harry interrupted her sharply, “It’s not your fault!”

Harry’s tone made her flinch, but she calmed herself, “Harry-”

“It’s not your fault!” He turned to her and snapped, his gaze then softened, “It’s not your fault, Hermione. Nor is it mine. It’s Ron’s. If he fancied you, then he should have told you that. If he had asked you today and if you had decided to go with him instead of me, I wouldn’t have minded, because it's your choice to go with whomever you wish to go with. But instead of asking you, he asked me _not_ to go with you so that he can ask you…that, is unforgivable.”

She looked as if she was struck, Ron had asked Harry to dump her? She couldn’t believe it. She and Ron had known each other for three years now, and in all that time, Ron and she had never really gotten along. The one thing that kept them both united was Harry. They had oft put aside their differences and stuck together for Harry’s sake. But now that Harry and Ron were no longer friends, she didn’t know if she should pick one of them or try to be friendly with both. Knowing Ron, she knew that she could no longer be his friend even if she wanted to.

They stayed in silence for a long minute, her thoughts dancing around her mind, but she sighed and decided, “Harry. I know, he’s being a jealous prat, but can’t you speak to him? Reconcile, maybe?” Hermione couldn’t believe that she was asking that, but she did it for Harry. She knew how much he cherished Ron’s friendship; she didn’t want to be the one between them.

“No, Hermione. I won’t. Even if he apologizes to us, it’s over.” Harry looked at her, a pained look on his face, it made her heartache. It wasn't lost on her that he had said, 'us' instead of me, it did bring a small smile to her lips.

“Hermione, he thinks you chose to go with me to the Ball because I’m a champion because I’m famous. He of all people should have known better, he should have known that you never saw me like that.” Harry said, and then frowned before muttering, “He should have known better.”

Her lips thinned and she huffed, her ire rising a new peak. She regretted asking Harry to reconcile with that prat. To hell with him, she thought.

They sat in silence after that, as they ate. Once they were no longer hungry, she had dragged him with her to the library, where they spent the rest of their days together, studying and learning for Harry’s upcoming task. And some spells to help them dance better. The hours they focused on their studies, helped them forget about Ron.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve decided on minor Weasley bashing, nothing more. I really don’t like Ron, and I think Harry and Hermione should have ended up together. I also think that if Ron wasn’t a factor, Harry would have been a much better student in general. His curiosity to learn during the first two years waned away during the later books, he became more like Ron. If Ron wasn’t an influence, I think Harry would have been more like Hermione, and better prepared during the war.  
> I hope you like this chapter...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter, JKR does…  
> Canon Divergence story. Harry/Hermione pairing. Starts with the Yule Ball announcement. I know it’s a trope done to hell in fanfics, but I want to have a go at it. Kind of a slow-burn, I may change my mind about that later.

* * *

**_Library-_ **

Harry rolled the parchments and put them in his bag, and he took a fresh parchment out. He had just finished his Charms homework, it was due on Monday, finishing it now, gave him a solid three days of free thoughts. Now, he could concentrate on his midterm revisions, Hermione’s habits were rubbing off on him already. Here he was preparing for midterms a month before the exams. He certainly wasn’t as bad as Hermione, who was preparing for her OWLs which was set to be at the end of the next school year, it was still a welcome change. As a Triwizard champion, he was exempt from schoolwork, but not attending classes were out of the question. Now that Ron was no longer in the picture, he attended just for Hermione’s sake, so that she didn’t get targeted by Malfoy or anyone else.

Harry started on his transfiguration essay on transforming spells. He heard a few giggles and then he peered out of the shelves to see Krum walking out of the library. His fellow champion must have gotten tired of waiting for Hermione to show up.

Hermione had told him that Krum had asked her to the Yule Ball two days after he had asked her, for some reason it made his stomach twist in jealousy. It didn’t help that Krum had been glaring at him a lot recently, ever since Hermione had turned the Bulgarian down, although it has decreased significantly in the past few days. He had for a moment there worried that Hermione might choose to go with the successful Quidditch star over him, but she had read him like an open book and assured him that she would not. Now, he was actually feeling ashamed that he had doubted Hermione.

“Hey, Harry…!” Fred and George peeked to look at him.

“Hi, guys, what are you both doing here?” He immediately asked suspiciously, knowing that the odds of the duo setting foot in the library willingly would be very low.

“We came here…” Fred began.

And George finished, “…to read.”

“Right…” Harry deadpanned narrowing his eyes at the suspicious duo.

Fred and George looked at each other and shrugged, “What do you think, Gred?”

“I think we might have to Forge.”

Fred or George, he couldn’t tell them apart, one of them sat on the desk and began, “We’ve been talking to our dear brother, Ickle Ronnikins.” At that Harry frowned.

The other brother popped in, “I reckon he’s being a git?”

Harry’s frown eased just a little, “What did _he_ say?” He couldn’t help but ask about Ron, it wasn’t easy to break a friendship, not with someone who was his first friend and his best friend for the last three years.

George waved it off, “The usual, you’re being arrogant…”

“And that he’s a saint…” Fred finished.

“Although, Thomas painted a different picture…”

“…as did Longbottom.”

Harry’s frown grew worse, Ron was telling people that it was his and Hermione’s fault, most likely. The nerve of him. He had half a mind to go to his dorm and hex Ron for being a git. At least, Dean and Neville weren’t entirely on Ron’s side if the twins were to be believed.

“Do you two believe him?” He asked the duo.

Fred or George, he couldn’t tell which one said, “You wound us, Harry.”

“Would we be here, if we did believe ickle Ronnikins?” The twin continued.

“As my less handsome brother was saying, we know our brother better than that.”

The other one turned, “Oi! You’re the less handsome one.”

“Am I?”

Harry snorted at the duo, “Thank you two, it means a lot that you two believe us.”

“Us, he says, Gred!”

“I heard it as well, Forge.”

“We’d be stupid not to believe you.” Both said in unison.

That made Harry wonder curiously, “Why?” He had no clue what the Weasley twins were talking about.

“Mate, do you have any idea how much profit you’ve made us?” One of the twins, he really wasn’t sure which one, asked.

Harry quirked his brows in confusion, “What profit?”

“The profit on the bet!” Both grinned at each other and said in unison.

“What bet?” Harry now asked dangerously.

Neither Weasley brothers were deterred by his threatening tone, “The bet on when you and Hermione would drop the pretences and admit that you two are in love.”

“We began the bet at the end of your second year…”

“We’ve made over a hundred Galleons in commissions alone.”

“Professor McGonagall got the winnings yesterday.”

“Three hundred Galleons prize money and a crate of Firewhisky she confiscated from our dorm.”

“W-what?” Harry stuttered as he breathed. All of this was too much to process. They were betting on when he and Hermione would cross the line past friendship. And apparently, even their Head of House Professor McGonagall was in on it. Which made him wonder if Professor McGonagall deliberately pushed him towards Hermione. However, none of these remained too much at the forefront of his mind.

Love? What did they mean by love? Did they think that he was in love with Hermione? How did they come to that conclusion? Was he in love with Hermione? What was being in love like?

He did like spending time with her, even before his fight with Ron. He did like holding hands with her. As of yesterday evening’s, dance practice, he got the feeling that Hermione may perhaps not object if he did kiss her. Kissing a girl, he didn’t know why that terrified him. Did she really like him, like that? How was he supposed to go about it, he wondered?

The twins’ word broke him out, “In any case, we want the inside track next time.”

“You give us a date when you might publicly kiss and announce it.”

“We’ve got considerable Galleons riding on it.”

“Do we have an understanding, mate?”

Harry could only nod dumbfounded at the duo, as they gave him no time to respond much less process the new developments, since they said their goodbyes and left the library, leaving him to stew on his thoughts. He had no idea how long he sat there thinking, before he was broken out of his musing when Hermione sat beside him, grabbing his hand grinning in pride.

“Hey, you.” She said in a soft satisfied huff, which made every hair on his skin to stand up, while he got the urge to snog her senseless.

“Hey…” He said just as softly with a small grin, to which she grinned.

Harry was suddenly feeling breathless and happy, “Did you know that the twins made a bet on when we would begin to date?”

“What?” Hermione asked in surprise and confusion.

And so, he explained the whole bet to Hermione, she did not look happy when he finished. Neither was she thrilled to learn that it was Professor McGonagall who had won the bet.

“Idiots! I’m going to hex them the next time I see them!” She fumed. Harry stared at her cute angry look and found his heart beginning to beat rapidly in his chest. It made him reckless and gave him ideas. Ideas he wasn’t sure Hermione would approve of.

_‘Should I?’_

_‘Just do it! Find your Gryffindor courage and do it!’_

Harry gently took her hand in his and he brought it to his lips, he gave her a gentle peck on her knuckles, rubbing slow circles on her skin with his thumb, making her freeze and shiver, and stare at him wide-eyed in shock, “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

Hermione’s cheeks turned red in an instant, she averted her eyes and tried her hardest to stop herself from grinning madly like an idiot. Harry wasn’t faring any better, as he realised what he had just said out loud. He was sure that this was because he was feeling entirely possessive of her.

“Shut up, Harry James Potter.” She said softly in a soft flustered voice, with a wide grin she couldn’t suppress. It made him chuckle at her.

 _‘She approves!’_ A jubilant voice rejoiced in his head.

It took them a few minutes to regain their bearings, as they sat beside each other hand in hand while grinning like a pair of idiots. Finally, Hermione got herself under control and fished out a parchment from her bag.

“Harry, I think I’ve figured out your egg.” She said, still trying to regain her bearings.

Harry stopped grinning, but the smile remained, “You have?”

Hermione immediately went into full lecture mode, “Do you see these wave-like markings on the shell of the golden egg? I began wondering if it meant anything, or if it was simply for the sake of decoration. I searched a few history books to see if these markings resembled anything, I couldn’t find anything. So, I asked Professor Vector, Babbling and McGonagall about it. All of whom refused to comment on it because they immediately knew that I was researching the egg for you.”

“Hermione, you can’t ask a professor to help solve the clue. I mean, direct help, at least. It’s against the rules.” He said to her, remembering how the professors had refused to train him when he had asked them before the first task, although they helped by giving a few suggestions but nothing beyond that.

She smirked at that, “ _You_ can’t, _I_ can. I’m not a champion.”

Trust Hermione to find a loophole. He grinned at her, “Have I told you that you’re brilliant?”

“No. I wouldn’t mind hearing it more often.” She raised her head and said in mock-pride.

“You’ll certainly be hearing it more often from now on.” He replied with absolute certainty.

Hermione smiled and continued, “Anyway, it was Professor Moody who gave me a hint. He told me to research magical civilizations and discoveries. It’s a book. I found this…” She fished out a book and laid it on the table, flipping the pages, until page 162, “…the same symbols in an underwater cave painting and a dozen other similar paintings all around the world. All of them have one thing in common, Merpeople.”

“Merpeople?” He asked wide-eyed in shock, “Could the screeching when I open the egg, could it be Mermish?”

She nodded in agreement, “That’s what I gathered. I tried to learn Mermish, but I found a simpler way. I think we should open the egg underwater.”

“You’re brilliant!” Harry said, making her grin.

* * *

Harry and Hermione were staring at a bucket filled with water. The golden egg was fully immersed into the bucket, its covers open as the egg inside glowed with a dim yellow hue. But they could hear nothing, not even the annoying screeching.

“I don’t think this is it,” Harry said, jumping to conclusions.

Hermione frowned in thought, “The screeching has stopped. That’s certainly something.”

“But what’s the point of it stopping, if we can’t solve the clue?”

She had to agree with Harry, “We’re doing something wrong. However, I know we’re doing something right.” Harry nodded in agreement.

There was silence for a few moments, until Harry said unsurely, “What if we’re supposed to be underwater with the egg?”

She mused for a moment, _‘Could it be that simple?’_

“It’s a valid theory. I see no harm in trying. We need to find a pool to test it, we can’t take it to the Black Lake, we’d freeze to death. The only thing I can think of the prefects’ bathroom, but no prefect will give us the password to enter it.” She quickly began calculation, making him smile fondly at her.

“Angelina is a prefect. We can ask her. I’m sure she’ll help us...” He said to her.

She shook her head, “I don’t think you understand. The prefects are a tight-knit group, they won’t allow us to use the prefects’ bath, not even Angelina. I think it’s an unwritten rule. That’s why the password is changed every week.”

“How do you know everything?” Harry said, his eyes gleaming in fascination.

The praise made her blush. Whenever Ron said it, it was said in cold contempt, but Harry said it with gusto as if he meant every word. She finally divulged after some thought, “I want to be a prefect and eventually Head-Girl.”

Harry shook his head with a wide grin, “They’d be mad not to give it to you.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Harry James Potter.” She retorted coyly.

Harry only grinned wider at that, “I hope it does.” He deliberately ignored her teasing tone and took her words literally, his words weren’t however a joke, he meant it sincerely.

They did nothing but gaze at each other for a few long seconds until they both averted to get their heads under control. Harry did it first, “I’ll use one of the school owls to write to Sirius. Perhaps, he knows somewhere in the castle, where we could find a pool.” Harry suggested, and she nodded while giving him a curious look at his fond smile directed at her. It was making her chest flutter.

“Didn’t Sirius warn you not to send owls?” She asked him.

“What choice do we have? We need one of the Marauders’ to shed some light. After all, it was they who created the map, they ought to have known the castle inside out to have mapped it.” Harry reasoned cleverly.

She was surprised to see him use his mind for something other than Quidditch. All of a sudden, she was finding him extremely attractive, more than before.

Her eyes then widened, as an idea struck her, “What about Professor Lupin?” She offered, “He is one of the Marauders and he ought to know the same things Sirius does. And you can owl him anytime without risk.”

Harry looked as if he was stupid for not thinking of it, “I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably say it again. Hermione, you are brilliant!”

* * *

**_Transfiguration Classroom-_ **

The violin played in a slow, sombre tempo, setting a melancholic mood. Professor McGonagall’s choice of music for a slow dance was heavenly. The gramophone played the music and the walls echoed the soulful music endlessly.

The music reminded him of the Dursley trip to Glasgow years back. They were gone for nearly a week and he was left in the care of Mrs Figg and her cats. She had the same taste in music as Professor McGonagall did. By the end of the week, he had grown to love the violin. He could never play it himself, but he could enjoy it for an eternity.

Hermione was so close; so close to him, they were practically hugging each other. Her forehead was resting against the side of his neck, while he had buried himself in her bushy hair. As they swayed to the slow music, he breathed in her sweet floral scent. He never knew that he would have found such a flowery flavour so appealing, but now he couldn’t imagine going on without it for another day.

If someone had told him a week ago, that he would love dancing with Hermione, he would have called them mad. But many things could happen in a week’s time, and this was proof of that. He loved this, dancing. As much as he dreaded dancing in front of the entire school, he loved dancing with her.

 _‘How had he never noticed her before?’_ He felt like kicking himself for not realising that Hermione had grown into such a beautiful girl over the years. A beautiful girl who understood everything about him. She knew how he liked his pumpkin juice, how he liked his treacle tart, how much he hated being the centre of attention, how he wished for a family with Sirius and Remus above everything else, how he liked to feel the wind in his hair when he flew on his Firebolt, how it wasn’t the game he liked but the act of flying itself. She didn’t just know him, she understood him, everything about him.

 _‘I don’t deserve her.’_ The voice said.

 _‘You really don’t…’_ For once, there was no argument.

He felt himself closing his eyes, just listening to the music and swaying to it on instinct. His hand on the small of her back pulled her closer still, she didn’t resist. Instead, he felt her snaking her arms around him, nestling herself against his neck. Neither knew how long they had danced to the music, but time had stopped for them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the music ended and he felt a deep rage that it had ended. But his rage was interrupted when they remembered that they were not alone in the room. Professor McGonagall was sitting there, reading a book with a rare knowing smile etched on her face.

Hermione noticed it first, she flew apart from him and he was missing her already, but both of them had other things to worry about. Because they were both red like a cherry, they had basically cuddled for the last twenty-five minutes in front of a teacher. He was feeling light-headed, and he had a distinct feeling that so was Hermione. He guessed that the sudden increase in blood pressure was the cause of it.

“It seems both of you have a good grasp on dancing to slow music. We’ll continue our class tomorrow. I will be teaching you a few basic healing spells, just in case you need to nurse your bruised feet.” Minerva’s eyes landed sharply on the fidgeting boy who still tended to step on his date’s feet when dancing.

“Yes, ma’am.” He replied softly.

Minerva’s eyes then fell on a blushing Hermione and softened, “We will also review a ‘fluidity spell’.” Hermione’s eyes brightened at that, “The spell will help you dance more fluidly.”

“Thank you, professor,” Hermione said, getting her flush under control.

“Off you go.” The Transfiguration professor said and they practically ran outside, breaking into uncontrollable giggles once far enough away from the room.

* * *

They didn’t talk about it. How could they? Neither of them knew how to begin the conversation. He knew he wanted to ask her to be his girlfriend, but what if she decided that it was too big a step. Should he ask her? How would he go about it? What will she say? Before he could think further, Hermione came down the dormitory stairs and rushed to him.

“What is it?” He asked worriedly.

She leaned in and whispered, “Professor Lupin has sent me a letter.”

“He sent you a letter?” He wondered aloud, making her shush him.

“I think Professor Lupin wants to avoid attention. Sending it to you might have it intercepted. However, he knows that I would get it to you.” It made sense to her, if Harry’s mail was being intercepted, it could become a problem. Professor Lupin wasn’t taking any risks with Sirius’s safety by mentioning it in a letter. She gave him the unopened letter and took her seat next to him.

Harry opened the letter and read the brief message on it, “Remus wants us to meet him in Hogsmeade tomorrow at noon.” Harry whispered to her.

“But tomorrow’s not a Hogsmeade weekend, we can’t go.” She whispered back to him.

It was Saturday tomorrow, with no classes, he was sure that no one would miss them for a few hours. So, a plan came to his mind, “We’ll take the map and the cloak. Use one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade at noon. Whatever it is Remus wants to tell us, it must be important if he’s making the trip here.”

She nodded in agreement, “Can we stay for a few hours afterwards? I want to buy a few books from Tomes and Scrolls.” She asked hopefully.

Harry nodded enthusiastically, “I was planning on going this Sunday anyway.”

Hermione looked surprised, “Why?”

“I want to buy new dress robes for the ball.”

“I thought Mrs Weasley already bought you one?” She asked curiously, her eyes narrowing at him.

“She did…but it’s…um… It’s bottle green in colour. It’s hideous. She has no sense of fashion. Don’t tell her I said that. I tried it on yesterday, it did not look good. I was hoping to shop at Gladrags for a dress for my tastes. I also needed a new pair of shoes for the ball, the one I own is worn-out.” Harry divulged nervously.

Hermione giggled at him, “I think it’s rather a good idea.”

* * *

**_Hogsmeade-_ **

They had their jumpers and scarfs on as they strode down the snowy lane towards the Shrieking Shack under the safety of their invisibility cloak. They still had ten minutes to noon. It didn’t take long for them to reach the shabby looking shack. As soon as they reached, a tall man fell out of disillusionment and walked out into the open as if sensing their presence.

Remus stood there with a pale face, light brown hair with strands of grey in it. Shabby clothes, and tired looking eyes.

“How could he know?” Harry whispered to her.

Before she could answer, Remus, replied for them, “I have the senses of a wolf, Harry. I picked up your scent as soon as you set foot in the village.”

Harry and Hermione stopped in slight surprise. It only took him a moment, he stepped out of the cloak and rushed to Remus, only to hug the man and laugh. Remus looked happy, but he quickly became serious, “Harry, did you tell anyone that you came here?”

“No.”

“Were you followed?”

“No.”

“Good.” Remus said sighing in relief, “It’s wise to be careful.” Remus muttered.

Remus quickly reached into his coat and pulled out a letter, he handed it to Harry, whispering, “It’s from Sirius. Open it only when you’re alone.” Harry nodded and took the letter, stashing it inside his trouser pockets.

“Hi, professor Lupin.” She walked to them and said with a smile. She was happy to see Harry this relaxed, ever since his name came out of the goblet, Harry was too tense, she hoped to remedy that, but he wasn’t opening up to her. She was glad to see that he was at least opening up to Professor Lupin.

“I’m not your professor anymore, Ms Granger.” The man gave her a warm smile, “Now, what is this about finding a pool in the castle?”

And so, Harry gave her a look, and she quickly explained her discovery about the Egg and the possibility of the clue being in Mermish. Remus had beamed at Hermione, claiming her as the brightest witch of her age, and thanked her for keeping Harry safe and happy. And then he looked thoughtful for a long moment and then he nodded in agreement.

“The reason I asked you both to come here is that there _is_ a place in the castle, although you have to careful in using it, no one else can know. It’s a room, more like a tower. One that we created during our final year, something we left behind as a memory.” Remus began.

Hermione was now curious, “What room? Why doesn’t it appear on the map?”

“Because the room is ‘unplottable’, and we deliberately made it that way. We wished that only a true Marauder could enter it. We were hoping that our children would one day come to use it during their years in school.” Remus paused, a sorrowful look in his eyes.

“How naïve we were…” Remus muttered with a forlorn look.

Hermione frowned at that, “Professor, you weren’t naïve. You were optimistic about your future, just as everyone else. That’s what I keep telling Harry to be like.” Remus gave a thoughtful look at Hermione and then nodded with a small smile, while Harry slouched sheepishly.

“I spoke to Sirius, and he agrees with me.” Remus then turned his gaze on Harry and sighed, “If anyone should know, it’s you, Harry. The only way in is through a password. The password is, ‘Aevom Peritia.”

Harry looked at him curiously. It didn’t sound like a Marauder password, which Remus understood as he laughed, “I know, very unlike the Marauders, isn’t it? It was your mother’s idea. She helped us create the room and enchant it in all the ways we wanted it, and in return, she got to choose the password. And the room has a pool inside.”

“Mum helped create it?” Harry asked with wonder and joy in his tone, which Hermione noticed, the sharp presence of it, which made her curious.

Remus nodded with a big smile, “When your mother and father were dating, she found James using the map, and being the Head Girl, she wasn’t impressed with the idea of him the Head Boy using it to keep track of everyone in the castle just to apprehend others, but she was nonetheless impressed by our work on the map. So, when she heard of our plan to create the Marauder’s Den, she wanted to help us, she and Alice helped us.”

“Alice?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Alice Longbottom. Your friend Neville’s mother. She was your mother’s best friend and she was in our year. She and Severus had a long-standing feud during our days in school, which is why I think Snape likes to torment poor Neville so much.” Harry frowned at Remus’s words, his already non-existing respect for the hook-nosed Slytherin bat taking another deep dive. Although, he was surprised that Neville’s mum was his mum’s best friend.

Hermione however didn’t seem to mind that information, she asked instead, “Where is this _Den_?”

Remus nodded, “The sixth floor. Behind the bust of Fytherley Undercliffe is a small antechamber. Press the nose of the bust to enter. Once you enter, go to the right-side wall. Place your wand and say the password and see the magic happen. There’s another safety feature inside, one that will require you to say all our names, Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prongs. You’ll know when you see it.”

“Thank you, Professor Lupin,” Hermione said, but Harry simply just hugged the man tightly, making the man smile at them.

Remus then grabbed on to Harry’s shoulder, giving him a stern look, “Harry, be careful. The attack on the Quidditch World Cup. Your name coming out of the Goblet. And Death Eaters like Karkaroff in the castle. All of this is somehow connected. You-know-who is coming back, that much is certain. Sirius is worried and frankly so am I. Keep your heads down, both of you. Study hard and train to the best of your abilities. Make use of the _Den_ well.” Remus gave one last tight hug and then separated.

“I’m happy that the two of you have found each other.” Remus gave them a knowing look, making them flush, to which he only laughed, “You two remind me of James and Lily.”

With that, Remus walked away, disappeared with a ‘pop’. Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione got under the cloak and made their way back to the village. Their first stop being ‘Tomes and Scrolls’, where Harry purchased her enough books to last the whole year much to her chagrin of him spending too much money. After that, they made way to Gladrags, where Hermione had picked out for him tailored black robes with a high collar, and a dark purple oxford shirt and tie, and a matching set of silvery grey fur cape for them both. By the time they finished shopping and made it back to the castle, it was already late and time for their dance practice. But the eager smiles they had on their faces never wore off.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this chapter. Went into a bit of plot as well to keep the story going. Reviews are much welcome. More is to come. Aevom Peritia means Ages Experience in Latin.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked the first chapter. I wanted to write a fic where Harry would actually contemplate about asking Hermione before asking her. This is mostly a romance, but also them growing powerful as the story progresses. More is to come, don’t worry.


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